


Worse Than Nicotine

by sofiawrites



Series: Tattooed Dog Star [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Smoking, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 22:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18107381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofiawrites/pseuds/sofiawrites
Summary: “You’re the health-conscious med student and I’m the chain-smoking art student who’s also your barista and you leave me notes on smoking and lung health on your napkins and also a 20-page essay on lung cancer tucked under your saucer” AU. Where Sirius is the chain-smoking art student.





	Worse Than Nicotine

_To the barista with the pretty grey eyes,_

_Smoking can cause the lens of the eyes to fog up and the whites of the eyes to turn yellow. Don’t ruin their beauty. If not for yourself, then for those who have the pleasure of seeing them. ;)_

_Love, Y/N._

Sirius rolled his eyes, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he pocketed yet another note from you. If you were to open a spare drawer in his flat, you would find a collection of tossed napkins with rushed scribbles littering the surface. Maybe one day Sirius would take your insistent advice, but right now, all he wanted was a drag.

“Another love letter from your favorite med student?”

With a shrug, Sirius rested his palms on the countertop, sending his co-worker and flatmate, James, a smirk. “You could call it that.”

“What does that make it? The third one this week?” asked James, spinning a permanent marker on the tips of his fingers.

“More or less.” Sirius checked the time before peering out the cafe windows. “It’s kind of endearing, I think. You know, in an annoying, motherly sort of way.”

James let out a laugh, pushing his glasses higher on his face. “What did it say this time?”

“Oh, just not to ruin my  _beautiful eyes_  by smoking.”

“Beautiful?” James squinted, zealously searching Sirius’ face. “ _Your_ eyes? Are you sure these notes aren’t meant for me?”

Sirius snorted, brushing his hair to the side. “They’re definitely for me.”

With a mischievous grin, James drummed the tip of his pen on the counter. “Sure they are.”

When the door chimed, James was ready to take the customer’s order, making the drink himself since business was slow at this hour. Once the latte was ready and the customer was seated, he turned back to Sirius.

“But what if it’s not just for you?”

“Pardon?”

James shrugged. “I’m only saying, what if you aren’t the only mysterious, smoking barista in your little med student’s life?”

“First of all, she’s not  _my_ little med student.” Sirius paused, a small smirk playing on his face. “Not yet, anyway. And second, that’s absolutely ridiculous.”

Still, as ridiculous as James’ suggestion sounded, an unsettling feeling entered Sirius’ stomach at the thought of you flirting with someone else.

“I don’t know about that,” James drawled. “Have you even talked to her?” Sirius opened his mouth, but quickly shut it at James’ pointed look. “ _Besides_ asking for her order.”

“She’s always busy studying from that textbook of hers,” Sirius said defensively. “I was trying to be polite.”

James hummed, tapping his foot on the linoleum floor. “That’s chivalrous and all, but if she has time to write you a little note on her every visit, I think she would be more than willing to take the time to talk to you.”

Sirius thought on his best mate’s words, just now questioning why he had never made a move.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Sirius snorted, “Since when did I need girl advice from you?”

“Looks like the roles have been reversed,” James said with a grin. “A girlfriend will definitely wise you up.”

Sirius’ only response was a cocked eyebrow.

“And as the one with a girlfriend, and therefore the one who is wisest,” James chose to ignore the huff he heard from Sirius, “I say you need to talk to her before she thinks you don’t like her.”

“I will–”

“And when I say talk to her, I mean soon.” James paused. “And when I say soon, I mean tomorrow.” Taking in Sirius’ amused eye roll, James continued, “Y/N is incredibly smart and–forgive me, Lily–incredibly pretty.  She’s not going to wait around if you show no interest.”

“I show plenty of interest!”

“Then you’ll be fine with showing even more tomorrow.”

“Fine. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” said James with a nod of affirmation. “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you, tomor–”

“Oh, bugger off, Prongs.”

**\- - - - -**

_To the barista with the beautiful voice,_

_I’ve heard you and your friend with glasses sing along to the music as you guys worked. You have an amazing voice. On a completely unrelated note, smoking can damage breathing control, dry out your vocal cords, and strain your lungs. Be careful and, please, be safe!_

_Love, Y/N._

Sirius didn’t bother to stop the smile that spread across his face. You really were an observant one, he thought.

Throughout that day, he had been subtly trying to sneak glances at you while you sat at your booth. That time, you had no textbook with you. Just a phone you were hurriedly typing on. It would’ve been the perfect time for Sirius to approach you.

But he didn’t. And soon enough you had left, shooting him a quick grin before tucking the napkin under your saucer.

_Maybe tomorrow._

****\- - - - -** **

_He really is too pretty to die._

You shook your head, blinking once. With a look of determination, you returned back to your textbook, running the cap of your highlighter underneath the words as you read.

You  _had_ to focus on studying for your exam next week. The cute barista would have to wait.

A cafe full of potential distractions might not have been the best place to study, but with your flatmates having their monthly movie night, you reckoned that a house full of drunk college girls would have been even worse. And, to be fair, you didn’t think your barista would be working a shift this late.

Plugging your earphones in, you blasted some white noise, turning the page of your textbook.  _Time to get busy_ , you told yourself.

About a quarter away from being done with your study session, you felt a warm presence above you. You looked up, your eyes flittering over to their name tag.

 _Sirius._  Your barista. A small smile found its way across your face.

Bringing your gaze to his, you took an earphone out. “Hi.”

He smiled back with an amused expression. “Hi.”

Your nose scrunched up ever so slightly as he got closer, a faint smell of nicotine still lingering on his shirt. Trying not to be rude, you huffed softly.

“Yes, I did just have a cigarette,” Sirius supplied with a deep chuckle, answering your unvoiced question. “My shift ended and I needed to get off store grounds to smoke.”

Disappointed, you hummed slightly. You worried he would never take your notes to heart. Or worse– He paid no attention to the napkins and tossed them on sight.

“But I couldn’t leave you here alone to study without some caffeine to last you the night.” He slid you a cup of coffee, careful not to spill the drink on your books. “It’s on the house.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to– Really.”

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, giving you a noncommittal smile. “It’s the least I could do in exchange for my newly acquired knowledge on the dangers of smoking.”

“So you do read my notes!” you chirped, satisfied. “Thank goodness, I was worried my efforts were all going to waste.”

“Of course not.” He brushed the loose strands of his hair from his face with a slight smirk. “My favorite part is always the address. The barista with the pretty eyes or the soft-looking hair or the beautiful voice or the tauntingly ravishing, kissable lips–”

You let out an indignant laugh, keeping him from teasing you further. When he never responded to your little notes, you thought Sirius might have been broody and shy. But taking one look at his playful grin and relaxed posture, you realized he was anything but.

“Strange. I don’t recall ever writing the part about your lips, but,” you trailed your gaze from his eyes to his mouth in one exaggerated motion, “maybe you’re not wrong.”

He matched your stare with his, running the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. Clearing his throat, he placed the palms of his hands on his jeans.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your study time,” said Sirius as your wrapped your hands around the cup. “But hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“Actually–” You cut yourself off, looking down at your textbook. You could finish studying tomorrow, but it wasn’t everyday a cute barista returned your advances. “I’ve finished studying for tonight. You can take a seat–you know–if you’d like.”

He grinned, glad you didn’t kick him out. Sirius slid into the booth, facing you.

Finally lifting the latte to your face, your eyebrows furrowed at the art on it. You glanced up at him only to see he was looking intently for your reaction. When Sirius caught your eye, however, he shot you a grin.

“Do you like it?”

The crema formed the shape of a delicate rose, the white foam a stark contrast from the dark latte.

“It looks beautiful,” you replied honestly, careful not to ruin the design as you moved. “You did this?”

He nodded.

“I can’t even draw this on paper,” you admitted, letting out a laugh. “I have absolutely zero artistic ability.”

“Oh, please.” Sirius raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re just being modest.”

You matched his expression with a challenging one of your own. “No, believe me; I’m really not.”

Pulling out a scratch piece of paper from the back of your notebook, you placed it in front of you. Using Sirius’ latte art as a reference, you attempted to sketch out a rose.

After almost ten minutes of frustrated grunts and feverish erasing, you turned the drawing toward Sirius to reveal a meek, two inch drawing of something that resembled a flower.

Taking the paper in his hands, Sirius held it up to the light. “I mean, if you squint really hard and shake the paper really fast, it looks quite interesting.”

“Funny,” you deadpanned, grabbing hold of Sirius’ forearm to stop him from shaking the paper. You made a face. “Not everyone can be blessed with artistic abilities.”

“It just takes practice.” Sirius leaned back into his seat as you took a sip of your latte. “And, perhaps, you should stick to your annoyingly endearing cigarette facts.”

You huffed, the corners of your mouth tilting upward in a wry smile as a comfortable silence fell over you. The only sound heard in the coffee shop was the muffled music being played from the speakers. Scanning Sirius up and down, you saw he carried an aura of effortless elegance you had never noticed before.

Shifting slightly, you mixed a packet of sugar into your coffee. “The notes didn’t annoy you, did they?”

He cocked his head to the side.

“Because they weren’t meant to be naggy,” you said in a rushed tone. “It’s just… I know how detrimental smoking can be and I didn’t want you to get–”

“I told you,” Sirius started, waving you off with one look, “I like them.” He brushed his hair behind his ear. “Now, if it were anyone else, I might’ve been annoyed. But it was you… An intelligent, beautiful girl that I was lucky enough to catch the attention of.”

His gaze stayed focused on your face, the sudden attention causing heat to rush to your cheeks. The amount of times you blushed in a conversation embarrassed you; you were a normally collected person, but the smallest of compliments could set you off.

You took a sip of coffee, keeping the mug in front of your face in an attempt to hide your blush. “I have plenty more facts about smoking. Maybe one you’ll actually listen to.”

Sirius laughed lightly, shaking his head at your accusatory look. “I read every word, sweetheart. And I will admit, I haven’t been smoking as much.”

“Really?”

“Only a couple cigarettes a day.”

“Sirius!”

He smirked at your cry of concern, offhandedly stating, “It’s better than a pack in one sitting.”

“You better be joking.”

“You act as if nicotine is the worst thing in the world, Y/N.” Sirius rubbed the back of his shoulder, keeping his eyes on you. “I’d say there are things worse than nicotine.”

“It’s not nicotine that’s the problem.” You paused, pursing your lips. “Well, it is. In a way. It’s a stimulant like caffeine, which isn’t too bad, but nicotine is a highly addictive drug and the fastest way to get your fix is by smoking. And as I’ve stated in my notes, in the long run, smoking–”

You broke off abruptly, hoping Sirius didn’t think you were looking down on him.

“I mean, not that I’m trying to pressure you into quitting.” You broke your gaze, staring down into your coffee as you mindlessly stirred it around. “If you do decide to quit, it should be a conscious decision that you make for yourself.”

“I know.” He nudged the edge of your shoe with his, causing you to look up to see a small smile on his face. “Now stop worrying that you’re going to hurt my feelings. I’m a big boy; I can handle it.”

Rolling your eyes, you let the conversation shift into something more lighthearted. You asked him about his art, he told you to ask him for lessons anytime, you told him you might have to take him up on his offer. He asked if you had a life outside of med school, you replied with a hearty shove.

Before you knew it, the two of you were leaning closer to the edges of your chairs, becoming more comfortable as time went on. You didn’t want this to end. But when you caught a glimpse of the time on your phone, you knew it had to soon. Trying to find a bus to bring you home to your drunk flatmates at eleven o’clock at night wasn’t exactly the safest thing.

“Well,” you said hesitantly, “it’s getting late. I better head home.”

Sirius nodded, standing up next to you. “I might as well go, too. Let me walk you out.”

When you made it out of the cafe doors, Sirius bidding his co-workers a farewell and goodnight, you searched the parking lot for the nearest street with a bus stop. You turned to Sirius, his face pale under the harsh street lights.

“Can I walk you to your car?”

“I actually didn’t drive here today.” Kicking up the gravel with the tip of your shoe, you felt his gaze on you. “I’ve never been a fan of driving at night.”

“Hmm.” Sirius nodded with a slight hum. “I’ll wait with you until your ride gets here, then?”

“I was going to take the bus.” At his curious glance you continued, “My flatmates and I usually have a girl’s night a few times a month, but I had to study.” The breezed up, prickling your skin as you rubbed your arms under your shirt. “So I asked one of them to drop me off and told them I had a ride home.”

He quirked a brow. “But you don’t.”

You shrugged, tucking your stray hairs behind your ear. “They needed a night to unwind; I didn’t want them to worry about me.”

“That’s ridiculously selfless of you,” Sirius stated, moving closer when he saw the goosebumps on your arms. There was a comforting warmth radiating through his uniform and you had to keep yourself from pulling him closer. “I can give you a ride to your flat, if you’d like.”

“No– It’s fine. The bus stop isn’t too far from here.”

Sirius folded his arms, shaking his head slightly. “Not that I doubt your capabilities, but I could never just let you navigate your way through the city at this hour.”

You bit your lower lip. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not,” he insisted. “But do you know what would be a bother?”

You didn’t respond.

“Leaving you here and spending the rest of my night wondering if you made it home safely.”

Rolling your eyes, you fought off a smile. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Beaming, Sirius took your hand in his, leading you to the staff parking lot. You may have just had your first  _real_ conversation with him today, but getting a ride from him still beat wandering the streets at midnight. Plus, the feeling of his hand around yours helped warm you up. That, of course, was the only reason you enjoyed it.

Telling him your address, he entered it into his phone GPS. His eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve actually dropped James off there before…”

He trailed off, a small smirk making its way onto his face. You have him a curious look, but decided not to question it.

Soon enough, Sirius pulled out his keys and a small clang sounded. He let go of your hand and patted the vehicle in front of him.

Your jaw almost dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He met your dubious expression with a smirk of his own. Unlocking the chain, Sirius looked up at you to say three simple words. “You like it?”

Folding your arms, amusement flooded your features. You shook your head slightly, the corners of your lips tilting upward as you saw  _Harley-Davidson_  branded on the ride. “Why does this not surprise me?”

“I’m going to pretend that was meant as a compliment,” said Sirius, passing you a spare helmet.

You raised your eyebrow in question, wondering why he kept more than one with him.

“When James–my co-worker with the messy hair and glasses,” he paused at your giggle, smiling. “When James and I have the same shift, I usually give him a ride to our flat. So I make sure to bring an extra helmet with me.”

“That’s the only reason?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “So charming random girls at the cafe and wooing them with your hot ride isn’t a frequent ploy of yours?”

“Nah,” Sirius drawled, unbuckling the strap of the helmet with his fingers. “Not frequent. I do it once a week, at most.”

You rolled your head to the side, jutting your lower lip out slightly. “I’m not sure I want a ride from you anymore.”

He laughed, the soft sound echoing in the empty parking lot. “I’m only kidding, sweetheart. Don’t fret– Unless you consider James competition. But I must say, with his tight grip and delightfully caffeinated scent, he might be tough to beat.”

“Well, damn.”

Shooting him a coy smile, you grabbed the helmet from his hands, plopping it onto your head. Sirius gave you a once-over, eyes stopping at the loose strap under your chin. Leaning forward, his fingers brushed against your jawline, tightening the helmet so it fit snugly atop your head.

“Safety first,” he murmured, face still mere inches away from yours.

With a lazy smirk, Sirius pulled away, tugging the back of your helmet to make sure it wouldn’t come off before patting the top of your helmet. You huffed, slapping his hands off.

“Sorry.” With a hint of laughter in his voice, he didn’t sound very apologetic. “You just look too damn cute for your own good in that.”

“Cute?” Your lips turned down into a pout as you folded your arms, trying to look aggressive through your face shield. You unbuckled the helmet and placed it under your arm.

“Cute,” Sirius affirmed, breaking out into a grin as he pinched your cheeks. “And your little pout just makes you look even cuter.”

You attempted to pushed his hands away, but they somehow managed to stay rested on your face. “Just cute?”

“Amongst other things,” he breathed, brushing a small spot behind your ear with the pad of his thumb. As he pulled away with a cheeky grin, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Sirius laughed at your reaction.

“That wasn’t funny,” you scowled, nudging him in the arm to let him know you weren’t upset.

“‘Course not.” Pulling a shirt out from his Harley, he turned back to you. “I’m just going to change, teach you the basics of riding as a passenger, then we’ll be off.”

Without giving you the time to turn around, he pulled his polo off, swapping it for a loose-fitting black tee. Your gaze followed the exposed parts of his abdomen as he fumbled with getting his shirt on. You caught a glimpse of black ink on Sirius’ chest, furrowing your eyebrows as you tried to make out what it was before he clothed himself.

Sirius met your stare with one of his own. You quirked a brow at him.

“You smoke, you ride a motorcycle,  _and_ you have tattoos?” You gave him an amused smile. “You’re my father’s worst nightmare.”

“Let’s hope you’re not a daddy’s girl, then.” He didn’t give you time to process what he said, instead holding his own helmet under his arm. “Anyway, when you’re on the motorcycle, I need you hold on as tightly to my waist are you’re comfortable with.”

You nodded, noticing his sober expression. Riding a motorcycle wasn’t a joke and he wanted to make sure you knew that. Still, it was something that should feel fun and exhilarating.

“If I’m accelerating or riding too fast, wrap your legs around mine.” You raised an eyebrow and even Sirius couldn’t help but smirk at that. “By doing so, you will get a better grip and, at the same time, tell me that I should probably slow down.”

Sirius went on with a brief summary on what to do and how to communicate with him while riding and, by the end of it, your stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement. You all but clambered onto the bike, putting your helmet on and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Keep them here,” he stated with a small laugh, bringing your hands hands from the center of his abdomen to his sides.

Feeling rejected you let out a soft, “Oh.” Maybe you were reading this incorrectly and Sirius had no interest in you after all.

Sensing your discomfort, Sirius placed his hand on top of yours, briefly interlacing them to give you a firm squeeze.

“It’s not that I don’t want your arms wrapped around me–because, trust me,” he let out a throaty chuckle, his voice growing quieter, “if I had my way, your arms wouldn’t be the only thing wrapped around me.”

You bristled, your face flaming at his wanton statement. For a moment, you were glad you had a bulky helmet on to cover your tomato-like complexion.

Feeling you stiffen, Sirius threw his head back at your reaction, his chest vibrating with his deep laughter. You edged away from him on the seat and you knew if you could see his face, he’d be smirking.

“But it’s not about me right now.” He turned back to you once he sobered, eyes searching for yours through your face shield. “Right now, what matters is your safety, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, giving his side a gentle squeeze.

Securing his own helmet on the top of his head, Sirius revved the engine, checking one last time to see if you were comfortable.

You laughed at his concern. If anything, you thought Sirius would’ve been the type of guy to ride without a helmet, going at dangerous speeds to prove his expertise. But, so far, he had been nothing but cautious. A little too cautious, in your opinion.

“I’m fine, Sirius. Now–what is it you told me?– _stop worrying_. I’m a big girl; I can handle it.” You heard his airy breath of amusement through the low speeds of the parking lot. “Now, take a little risk.”

You saw him shake his head, voice swimming with mirth from your challenging words. “That’s what I like to hear.”

And with that, he took off.

The city lights passed by in a blur, the breeze biting into your exposed arms and you were grateful for your helmet a second time today. In the middle of the night, the streets were yours; the cars were sparse and space was plenty.

An estranged mixture of fear and excitement coursed through your veins as you tighten your grip around Sirius’ abdomen. It wasn’t until he slowed down and pulled closer to the sidewalk did you notice you were screaming the whole time.

“Are you alright?” he called, amusement lacing his tone.

“Better than alright!” You attempted to lower your voice, not wanting to yell in Sirius’ ear. “I just scream when I’m excited, sorry.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he accelerated once more. Though he wasn’t going very fast, the force of inertia caused you to wrap your legs around his. You were vaguely aware of the feeling of your thighs pressed against his as you edged your body closer to the center of the seat, leaning your head to the side to avoid knocking Sirius’ helmet.

As soon as you fell into the groove of riding, you placed your feet back on your own pegs, taking one arm off of Sirius and stretching it out above your head. With the breeze billowing through your fingers and tossing your hair back, you’ve never felt more in touch with your surroundings.

“Yeah!” you cried, urging Sirius to drive faster.

You felt the rumble of his laugh through his thin shirt, thinking how unfair it was that warmth exuded from his back despite the cold air around him while you had goosebumps covering every square inch of your arms.

Before you knew it, Sirius had pulled up in front of your flat, the motorcycle silencing itself to nothing more than a soft purr. Killing the engine, he helped you off, keeping his hands on your waist for longer than he needed to.

“So,” you breathed, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth.

Sirius let his hands linger around you before slowly retracting them. “So.”

“Thank you for the ride.”

“It was my pleasure.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact. Any charm you might have previously possessed went down the drain when Sirius stared at you. All you knew was you missed the warmth of his body on yours.

“Going to have a smoke after this?” you remarked, arms folded in a challenge.

He let out a huff of amusement, running the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek. A sideways grin made its way onto his face. “Depends. If I say yes will you stay out here and make sure I don’t?”

You gave Sirius’ arm a playful push, leaving your gentle grip on his tricep. “If that’s what it takes.”

Running your fingers along the light cloth of his sleeve, you smirked at the slight tightening of his muscles. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at you, deliberately skimming his lower lip with his tongue.

 _Two can play that game_ , you thought with a small shake of your head.

Stepping closer, you peered at his face through the harsh lights littering the streets, the gleam casting a shadow on his eyelashes. Tilting your head to the side, you brushed the tip of your index finger over the cool skin of his cheekbone.

You moved back, pretending not to feel the intense stare Sirius was burning into you. You shot him and innocent smile, bringing your forefinger and thumb together.

“Eyelash.”

Though you shifted away from him, the proximity between the two of you still left you in a compromising position. Focusing your attention back on Sirius, you noticed the bottomless greys of his eyes had turned a stormy color from your interaction, his jaw clenching.

Blowing the stray eyelash from your thumb, you shut your eyes, making a wish. When you finished, you slowly looked up at him, smiling. But his gaze was already on your lips.

You tried not to smirk.

Testing the limits, you cupped your hand under his chiseled jaw, running your thumb along the light stubble peppering his face.

“Sweetheart,” Sirius rasped, a tone of warning laced through his voice.

You traced a circular pattern on him, your touch so light he barely felt it. Still, he was aware–painfully aware–that it was there. Your hot breath was feathering the base of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing at your light touches.

“Did you want me to stop–”

A low growl escaped from the back of his throat as Sirius grasped your wrist firmly in his large hand. He rubbed the sensitive part of your forearm with the callous of his thumb.

_So, he doesn’t like being teased._

“Sweetheart,” he said again, voice still hoarse, “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I think I do.” You fingered the hem of his shirt, daring to inch closer. “But how about you show me, anyway?”

And he did.

Dropping your wrist, Sirius placed one hand on the small of your back, pressing your body against his, and the other cupped against your cheek.

As he toyed with the strands of hair framing your face, twirling it around his forefinger, Sirius kept his gaze intently on yours. He trailed his fingers down the length of your hair, the edges of his knuckles skimming past the crevice of your chest.

A satisfied smirk formed on his face as you shuddered, arching away from him, his other hand still applying a pressure just above the curve of your ass.

 _“Sirius.”_  You almost groaned, your voice strangled in need. You wanted more. You wanted his lips on your lips, his hands in your hair–  _More._

His amused hum rang through your body, heat spreading to the core of your abdomen. Still, he made no move to change his pace.

Lacing his fingers through the back of your hair, Sirius gave it a slight tug, causing you to expose the vulnerable parts of your neck to him. He continued the stroke his thumb in downward motions through the material of your leggings, peppering your jawline with chaste kisses. He started near your chin, making his way up to where the base of your ear met your neck. His stubble tickled your jaw, leaving you to wonder how it would feel elsewhere.

Moving away ever so slightly, Sirius brushed the spot behind your ear with his soft lips, blowing a hot puff of air against your cool skin.

You shivered.

_He was getting you back for teasing him. But he was going harder._

You were getting frustrated. Your stomach twisted in anticipation, heat coursing through your veins. In that very moment, there was nothing you wanted more than for Sirius to place his mouth on yours.

“Please,” you moaned.

With his lips still brushing the base of your ear, he whispered, “Please what?”

Grabbing at the collar of his shirt, you pulled his face closer to yours. “Please– Just kiss me, already.”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

A strangled whimper escaped from your mouth. You were are the end of your line, unable to take his continuous teasing any longer. Taking matters into your own hand, you stood on the tips of your toes, craning your neck up to meet his lips.

“Finally,” you murmured against his mouth, causing Sirius to laugh into the kiss.

The deep vibrations from his chuckle rang through your body, a feeling of pleasure erupting in your chest. You eased into his caress as you brought your hand to cup his jaw, stroking his peppered stubble.

His large hand pressed against your lower back, pushing your hips against the rough material of his jeans. For a second, Sirius broke the kiss, nipping the soft flesh of your bottom lip, then soothing the spot with the tip of his tongue.

The next moment, his mouth was back on yours, moving against you in a tantalizing dance. The night filled with the cacophonous sounds of gasps and groans. You were sure Sirius could feel your heart beating erratically through your ribcage, your chest flattened against the defined muscles of his.

_The kiss was better than you could have ever imagined._

You pulled away, breathing heavily for some much needed air. Sirius let his forehead rest on top of yours, his lips parted in a pant, his warm breath teasing your hypersensitive skin.

He grinned, breathless and dazed by the kiss still lingering on his mouth. “Now, wasn’t that worth the wait, sweetheart?”

You let out an amused huff, your arms still around his neck. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Sirius trailed his hands down from your waist, to your hips, and went lower still, stopping to cup the curve of your ass.

“Still going to have a smoke after this?” you breathed, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

He wore a hooded expression, smoothing the furrow between your brows with a light kiss. You looked back up at him to find a look on his face that made your stomach churn.

“Nah.” Sirius removed your hands from around him, toying with the tips of your fingers. “I’m good.”

Interlacing his hand through yours, he gave you a small, but firm, kiss on the lips.

“I think I found something much better than nicotine.”


End file.
